


all my tomorrows

by spookyfoot



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Married Sheith, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 14:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyfoot/pseuds/spookyfoot
Summary: “I’m not going anywhere,” Shiro says. He reaches down to lace his fingers through Keith’s just to hear their wedding bands click against one another. “I promise I’ll be here tomorrow. And the day after.” He lifts their joined hands. “That’s what these mean you, know. That all my tomorrows are yours.”Shiro and Keith spend the night in their new home.





	all my tomorrows

**Author's Note:**

> this is for feliz novidad in the across the universe discord server exchange. i hope you enjoy it and happy holidays!

“Who thought it was a good idea to let Keith near a nail gun?” Lance says. “I feel like someone should have vetoed that combo at some point. I’ll take one for the team and veto it now.”

“Someone who wanted complete cabinets,” Keith says, loading a few more nails with a decisive _click_.

Shiro’s watching him too, from where he’s standing in their barebones kitchen, tile samples scattered along the counter besides the milk and hot chocolate mix. He’s distracted for a moment by the way Keith’s shirt stretches over his shoulders. They’re so much broader than they used to be, but still the perfect size to hold in his arms. Hunk stands near the stove garnishing each of the remaining mugs with a flourish of fresh whipped cream.

“Seems like a short sighted trade off,” Lance says.

“Keep talking,” Keith says, loading another nail.

“What seems short sighted is saying that to the guy holding the nail gun,” Hunk says, not even bothering to turn around.

“And _I’m_ just saying, it seems like a tragedy waiting to happen.”

“Those are strong words coming from someone who can’t even assemble Ikea furniture.”

Shiro hides a laugh in his hand. The look Lance gives him suggests he wasn’t very successful. Hunk nudges him and Shiro two mugs of hot chocolate, one for him, one for Keith.

“Seriously Lance? _I_ can assemble Ikea furniture,” Pidge says, wandering over to the living room, two mugs of cocoa in each of her hands.

“You can also create an artificial intelligence program. We have different skill sets.”

Pidge pauses, turns, and hands Lance’s hot chocolate to Matt instead.

“Hey that was mine!”

“And now it’s not,” Pidge says with a shrug and a smirk. She settles onto the set of crates they covered with a blanket, mug in hand and sits back like she’s about to take in a show.

She’s not wrong. This is the first time Allura’s celebrated Christmas, and they’re all a little surprised but happy to have her here.

It’s the first night they’re spending in their new house—their first holiday here, too.  Christmas and New Years are still a ways off, but the house is finally livable. Most of their things are still in boxes—most of their furniture still _is_ boxes. The house is a fixer upper, at best, but it’s on a good sized piece of land and it’s theirs to make their own.

Keith and Shiro have done some of the work on the remodel themselves with help from more than a handful of Keith’s mom’s old army buddies. Although she’s only come back into his life recently, she’s done her best to make the most of their new connection and fit into the edges of Keith’s life at his pace.

It’s been great for Keith, but Shiro knows that despite everything, he’s probably still waiting for her to decide he’s not worth the trouble.

“So you just put ornaments on the tree?” Allura says, sifting through a dog eared and slightly damp cardboard box.

Right, the tree. Lance had insisted on all of them decorating the tree together in Keith and Shiro’s new house, and they’d all shown up with various housewarming gifts—thing to help them settle in. The tree is Shiro’s favorite, though. It makes the whole place smell like pine, and despite the bare walls and mess of crates everywhere, it made their house start to feel more like a home.

Shiro’s only peripherally aware of Allura sorting ornaments; he’s got his eyes on Keith. It’s hard to look away, there’s a worried set to his mouth that’s at odds with the spirit of the evening.

He makes  his way to Keith’s side, mug of cocoa cradled in his hands.

“Ornaments, lights, sometimes popcorn on a wire.”

“Lights and popcorn sound like a terrible idea,” Allura frowns. “One of those is a fire hazard and the other one is perishable.”

From the corner where he’s drawing out lines in pencil on the living room wall, Keith laughs.

“Something to add?” Shiro says, handing him his mug and leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“It’s just that I’ve always thought the same thing,” Keith says, and Allura flashes him a triumphant but grateful smile. There’s still a tension to Keith’s shoulders but he sets down his tools to fit himself into the space at Shiro’s side. Keith takes a sip of his hot chocolate and Shiro wraps an arm around his waist to draw him closer.

Across the room, Pidge throws pieces of popcorn at Lance and Matt, who try to catch them in their mouths. For the most part they just land on either side of them. Or hit them in the eye.

“I challenge you to a duel,” Lance says to Matt. “Me and Allura against you and Pidge. Thirty pieces of popcorn, whoever catches the most, wins.”

“Stakes?” Pidge asks.

“Losing team has to wear a Santa outfit, winner chooses what kind.”

Matt and Pidge grin at one another, and Shiro feels reflexive flash of fear.

“You’re on,” Lance says, dooming himself. He’s been friends with Pidge long enough that should know better than to challenge her like this, but Keith’s smiling, a real, soft smile, and Shiro’s not going to ruin the show.

____________________________

But after everyone else has gone home for the evening, Lance carting out two tubs of popcorn and his wounded pride, it’s just the two of them and the bare bones of the home they’re building together.  Even though their heating system says it’s on, it’s not working very well. This isn’t what they were expecting when they decided to stay for the night, but they have a lot of camping gear and a couple of space heaters and each other.

“You’ve always run hot,” Shiro says, pulling Keith back against his chest. They’re wrapped in a mess of blankets, a few space heaters circled around the room, all of them pointing directly at the bed.

One of the selling points of the house was the huge, oversized windows. Unfortunately, they’re old and badly insulated. And there’s a storm coming in with huge, purple-bellied clouds swelling on the horizon.

A roll of thunder cracks in the distance.

Shiro laughs.

“What?”

“I’m glad we fixed the roof first.”

But Keith’s answering smile is weak, and Shiro’s chest starts to twist itself into knots.

“What’s wrong?”

“Maybe we should have stayed somewhere else tonight,” Keith says, shifting closer to Shiro’s chest.

“Hey, no, this is fine. We’ve got the heaters and hot chocolate and each other. And a tree. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

Keith sighs and settles back a little more, but there’s still a little worried crease between his brows that sets off alarm bells in Shiro’s head.

He nudges Keith with his shoulder and squeezes his arms just a little tighter around his middle. “What’s going on?”

“It’s. I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Shiro knows better than to push when Keith’s like this. So he settles for nosing at the soft skin just under Keith’s jaw. He’s a little ticklish there, but even when he starts squirming in Shiro’s arms, he won’t admit it or tell Shiro to stop.

“Just—sit with me?”

“Always.”

They sit like that for a while, the clouds draw closer, and the sheets steal some of the body heat from their skin, wrapping them in warmth. The hot chocolate on their crate masquerading as a nightstand has long since gone cold.

Keith still looks unsettled.

He turns away from the window and into Shiro’s embrace, his warm breath ghosting the shell of Shiro’s ear. Shiro leans back into the pillows, Keith half draped over him, the heavy weight of his body comforting and familiar. He reaches up to comb his fingers through Keith’s hair. It’s a bit of a mess from constantly rubbing against the blankets, shot through with static and curling haphazardly curling over his ears.

“I think I’m scared. This is so much. The loans, and the thirty year mortgage and the extra rooms _just in case_. Places give you expectations,”  Keith whispers. Shiro starts to sit up but Keith shifts left, draping more of himself over Shiro’s chest and pinning him to the bed. Shiro wiggles a little, trying to sit up. He wants to look Keith in the eyes. But Keith keeps holding him down, so Shiro stays where he is. “I used to be scared of falling asleep and finding someone else had left in the night when I woke up. Or finding out that I had to leave in the morning.”

“Keith—”

“No. Just—listen. I’m happy. So unbelievably happy. And that’s just it—it’s unbelievable. I guess I never learned how to handle feeling like this without waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the moment I’d fuck it up.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Shiro says. He reaches down to lace his fingers through Keith’s just to hear their wedding bands click against one another. “I promise I’ll be here tomorrow. And the day after.” He lifts their joined hands. “That’s what these mean you, know. That all my tomorrows are yours.”

“Okay,” Keith says, squeezing Shiro’s hand. Warmth blooms in Shiro’s chest, despite how cold it is outside of the bubble they’ve created for themselves. He kisses the top of Keith’s head, runs his fingers up his side. Keith’s squirms a little. He’s ticklish there. Shiro does it again.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop tickling me, we were having a moment.”

He finally lifts his head and looks Shiro in the eyes. The tip of his nose is red, his lips are chapped, and he’s wearing that special smile he saves just for Shiro.

“How dare you accuse an innocent man.”

“You’re the worst,” Keith says, but he’s still smiling.

He lies back down and settles against Shiro’s side and It’s quiet, for awhile. It’s fully dark by the time he speaks again.

“I think—I don’t know how to have a home,“ Keith whispers.

Shiro traces meaningless patterns on the small of Keith’s back. “That’s okay. I’m not sure I do, either. But home doesn’t have to be a place.”

“Well,” Keith turns and places a soft kiss in the hollow of Shiro’s throat, “then I guess you’re my home.”

“You’re my home, too, Keith.”

**Author's Note:**

> [ tumblr](http://spookyfoot.tumblr.com) // [ twitter](http://twitter.com/spooky_foot).
> 
> -Matt and Pidge obviously win the popcorn contest and to fulfill the terms of the bet, Allura has to wear a traditional Santa costume to their next party. Lance has to wear a sexy one.


End file.
